Page 19 of A Don & His Doll

“Why haven’t I heard about her?” Mitch quizzed, leaned back in his seat, cruising the expressway.

“Just been keeping her to myself, Unc,” Monroe replied truthfully.

Mitch’s mind instantly went back to the advice he’d given his nephew after he’d shaken back from losing his first love, Sienna.

It’s hard to love again after losing the love of your life, nephew. Wrapping your mind around loving again may seem foreign, but you will. No time soon, but you will. When you do… keep her to yourself a little while, take time to study everything about her. Especially shit like her scent, body language, and pay attention to the way your heart feels when she’s not under your care. Don’t share her with anyone, not even me, until you know she’s your queen.

Mitch understood immediately how serious the relationship was when Monroe said that. Mitch had given him wise counsel years ago, and was proud to know that he’d taken heed. Monroe and his uncle had the same mind. The way they processed shit was always different than the average.

They were always strategic.

Always dominating.

Skimping on shit like precision and taking care of real business wasn’t part of their nature. However, when it came to the women they loved, loyalty wasn’t something that needed discussion, it was understood. Protecting what belonged to them mentally, emotionally, and physically. That was instinct. That was law. They specialized in securing their heart, mind, and body at all times. The life they led could be dangerous, and didn’t leave much room for softness. Power came with enemies, and enemies came with consequences. No matter how hard niggas’ claimed to be, it took a special type to run shit the way his nephew had, even in his absence.

His name alone moved rooms.

His presence alone shifted outcomes.

It took a different type of discipline to rule at the magnitude Monroe had mastered, and if anyone knew the war Monroe had to fight to get to the place he stood, it was Mitch. He was the only one who knew how to get through to him when he’d shut the world out.

“You love her?” Mitch pried further as he eased into Macie’s driveway.

Monroe didn’t answer immediately. Instead, he smiled as his attention shifted to the sight of his mother stepping from her truck, her arms filled with bags from some of the most exclusive designer shops.

“There go the queen of New York,” he said, after sliding his window down.

Macie smiled. “Monroe,” she said, quickly averting her eyes to her brother-in-law, Mitch.

Accepting the nonverbal cue, Mitch allowed the moment to breathe, and chose not to press him out further. Still, he tucked the question away, knowing he’d circle back once the dust settled and the right moment presented itself.

Monroe being the gentleman he was, would never allow his mother to carry anything in his presence. He got out of the car and grabbed all the bags from his mother’s hands.

Mitch followed suit, and made his way around. “Macie Black,” he greeted, respectfully embracing her. “It’s been a long time.”

“Too long,” Macie returned.

“How you doin’? I already know business is good.” Mitch asked, looking around at Macie’s mansion.

“I’m good, and business has never been better. Y’all come on in,” Macie quickly shot back and invited.

Macie led the way through the grand foyer of her home, her heels clicking softly against the polished marble floors as the soft, but rich scent of Midnight Blue Citrus from her Bath & Body Works plug-ins fragranced the air, setting a peaceful tone. Despite the moves she had made and the chaos that had followed, when it came to her personal domain, she curated peace and warmth. Macie knew that Monroe had handled business before Mitch ever walked out those prison gates, but that didn’t negate the role she played in giving him what was due to him. There were certain responsibilities that belonged to her… responsibilities that had been waiting for this very moment.

The Black Family Empire wasn’t just business, it was legacy. An inheritance built long before Monroe ever took his first breath. The organization had been passed down through bloodlines, beginning with Monroe Sr. and Mitch’s grandfather. The order to entrust the empire into the hands of the eldest male of each generation came through their father Mason. So, when it came to the structure, money, power, and respect for the Black family, it wasn’t chosen… it was inherited. Life had disrupted the natural order that had been set, which led to the reason Macie was left to handle business in her late husband’s place. Since the death of Monroe Sr., and Mitch’s incarceration when their father, Mason passed away, Macie was left in charge of giving Mitch his part in the inheritance his father left back for him.

Macie opened the double doors to the in-house conference room that was just beyond the living room. She took her seat at the head of the table, the same seat her husband would’ve been seated had he been alive. Mitch took the seat at the other end of the table, his choice intentional. It wasn’t about challenge. It was about acknowledgement. His presence alone signified the return of order. He was the head of the family, and was intentional about reclaiming his rightful position. Still, there was mutual respect for Macie and the role she had played while he was gone. She hadn’t just held things together, she had helped preserve the empire.

Monroe read the room and wasn’t intimidated.

He was accustomed to power.

He understood it intimately.

Therefore, he wasn’t intimidated by positioning or silent gestures meant to establish rank. Where he sat at the table didn’t determine his worth. Position could never define him. The work he’d put in had already done that for him. Both Mitch and Macie knew exactly who had kept The Black Family name ringing bells around the globe. Monroe hadn’t merely protected the legacy. He had elevated, expanded, and strengthened it in ways that made their reach undeniable. Titles could be debated, but results never lied.

“Mason was a good man, and he loved this family more than life. He loved what this family represented. Losing you and your brother broke his heart, but you know what he always used to say. We–”

“We never lose. No matter what… We’ll find a way,” Mitch finished his father’s quote, then chuckled.